


He Cared / She Cared

by stjarna



Series: The family we choose for ourselves [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Doctor/Patient, Earth vs Space on Tumblr, F/M, Team Space, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-11-09 08:29:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20850488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: A Fitzsimmons Meet Cute that fits into the"The family we choose for ourselves"universe in which Jemma is a doctor and Fitz is an engineer who has a bit of an accident at work.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lilsciencequeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/gifts).

> Big thank you to @dilkirani for the beta :) 
> 
> Banner by me.
> 
> For @lilsciencequeen, 'cause for once I didn't let her beta so I'll get the full on excited first time reading experience when she comments.

Jemma read over the chart in her hand as she headed for the examination room—or, well, sectioned-off-by-curtains-examination-area. The curtains weren’t fully drawn, so from afar she’d already caught a glimpse of her patient—Leopold Fitz. His eyes were narrowed in concentration and he appeared to be staring through the narrow gap in the curtains at something in the distance, his eyes shifting focus when he noticed her approaching.

Jemma pulled the curtain back and stepped into the cubical before closing the curtain behind herself as best she could. She smiled warmly. “Mr. Fitz, looks from your chart like—”

“Just Fitz,” he interrupted her, a slight tremor to his voice.

Jemma paused for a moment, surprised by his interjection, before she found her composure again. “Fitz? Alright. From your chart, I gather that you have quite the cut on your arm.”

“Yep. Definitely needs stitches,” a voice to the side of Jemma piped up.

Jemma looked over at the other man in the room, her focus immediately shifting back when Fitz chimed in from the medical bed. “You don’t know that, Frank.”

“How about I’ll be the judge of that?” Jemma suggested, unable to hide a smirk as she glanced back and forth between the two men.

“Um, yes, sure,” Fitz stammered, pressing the blood-soaked towel more firmly against his injury. “It’s just—” He leaned sideways, looking past Jemma and into the distance just as when she’d first seen him. As if by reflex, Jemma looked over her shoulder to see what had caught his attention. “That little girl in the waiting room,” he continued, and Jemma immediately realized whom he was talking about. “They got here like a minute after us, and she’s still waiting. I mean, maybe—I don’t mind waiting if you think you could take care of her first.”

Jemma looked back at him, furrowing her brow. “Mr. Fitz—I mean, Fitz, are you a bit nervous? Afraid of doctors, hospitals, needles? Because I can assure you—”

He shook his head vehemently. “No, no, nothing like that. This isn’t exactly my first trip to the emergency room. I’m an engineer. Sometimes I have an idea and my tools disagree with me. Frank and I basically take turns driving each other here.”

“True dat!” Frank agreed in the background.

“No, it’s just that she’s just a kid, and waiting in the emergency room sucks enough when you’re an adult, and—and I get it, I mean—you’re saving lives and you’re understaffed and overworked and—and I would never complain about having to wait, but she—she’s just a kid and probably nervous and so I thought if she didn’t have to wait so long then—”

Jemma raised one hand in a calming motion. “I’ll tell you what—I will check on her status. See how long she’ll still have to wait. How’s that?”

Fitz sighed deeply. “Thanks.”

Jemma couldn’t help but smile. She scrunched her nose, bobbing her head once, and turned around to head to the triage desk.

“Janet,” she addressed the nurse, lifting her chin in the direction of the waiting room, “do you know how much longer the little girl over there still has to wait?”

Janet looked up in surprise, her gaze wandering to where Jemma was gesturing. “Aren’t you with a patient?” she asked in confusion.

Jemma scoffed. “I am, but my patient seems very concerned that a little girl has to wait while he’s receiving care.”

“Sounds like someone’s afraid of doctors,” Janet remarked teasingly.

Jemma laughed quietly. “That’s what I thought at first, too, but he seems to genuinely care that a child shouldn’t have to wait so long for medical treatment.”

Janet pursed her lips. “That’s kinda sweet.”

“Isn’t it?” Jemma couldn’t help but smile widely. “So, what’s the girl’s status?”

“Chris just needed a potty break before his next patient. The girl will be in-and-out in no time.”

“Excellent,” Jemma held Fitz’s chart in her hands more tightly. “Thanks, Janet.” She spun around and headed back to her patient.

“She’s up next. Her doctor just needed to follow nature’s call,” Jemma explained when she re-entered the examination room.

Fitz nodded slightly. “Alright, thanks for checking on that.”

“Now that that’s settled, may I finally take a look at your injury?” Jemma asked, gesturing at Fitz’s arm.

His eyes widened. “Oh, yes, no, of course.”

Jemma couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that escaped her. She stepped closer, rested his arm in her hand and lifted the towel that he’d been pressing against the wound. As soon as the pressure on the cut was released, blood filled the gaping injury, prompting Jemma to immediately reapply pressure. “Your tools really disagreed with you quite a bit, didn’t they?”

Fitz scoffed. “One of them did at least.”

Jemma walked over to the rolling cabinet in the corner and started gathering the supplies she would need, looking over her shoulder back at her patient. “I’ll need to clean it to get a better look but it’ll definitely need stitches.”

“Ha! Told ya so!” Frank piped up in the corner, causing Fitz to roll his eyes rather adorably.

He let out a deep sigh, watching Jemma as she lay everything out on a tray next to the bed. “This is going to take awhile, isn’t it?”

Jemma pursed her lips. “Probably not terribly long, but you wouldn’t want me to rush, would you?”

“No, no, of course not, it’s just—” He looked at his friend. “Why don’t you head back to work? No use both of us wasting time.”

Frank crossed his arms in front of his chest, shaking his head. “Dude, no. Don’t worry about it. This trip will cost you enough as is. No need to add cab fare back to work to pick up your stuff and then home to your place. You’d do the same for me. You  _ have _ done the same for me.”

“But doesn’t your kid have some kind of football match today?” Fitz asked, and Jemma had to admit that she found his caring nature—first for the little girl and now for his friend—rather charming.

“First of all, you’re in America, call it soccer or people get confused,” Frank countered while Jemma started cleaning the wound. “And second of all, it’s noon and the game’s not until 6 tonight. Unless you got yourself the world’s slowest doctor, I’m fairly certain I’ll make it.”

Jemma let out a little laugh. “I assure you, you’ll be out of here with plenty of time to spare. Now let’s get started.”

Fitz inhaled deeply. “Alright then.”

“If it’s seven stitches or more, I win the pot,” Frank remarked, crossing his arms more tightly in front of his chest and observing Jemma with excited curiosity.


	2. Chapter 2

Fitz walked through the sliding doors of the emergency room, his palms sweaty and his heart hammering somewhere in his throat. He swallowed against the tightness in his throat as he walked up to the triage desk.

The nurse behind the counter looked up briefly, then grabbed for a clipboard that she slid through the gap of the glass window separating her side of the desk from the waiting area. “You’ll need to fill this out,” she said routinely, without really paying him full attention.

“Um, yeah, no, I’m not a patient,” Fitz stammered.

The nurse’s head shot up in confusion. “What?”

Fitz lifted his bandaged arm. “I mean, I was a patient three days ago. I—um—I’m looking for Dr. Simmons. She treated me.”

“You should see your PCP for any follow-up questions. I’m sure Dr. Simmons told you that upon discharge.”

Fitz nervously drummed his fingers on the counter. “Um, yes, she did, but—um—but this isn’t a medical question, so—um—my PCP wouldn’t be of any use.”

The nurse raised her eyebrows skeptically, clearly having figured out why Fitz had shown up at the ER.

“Is she working today?” Fitz asked, a hopeful smile playing on his lips that faded when the nurse pressed her lips together, her eyes widening even more.

Fitz slumped his shoulders. “You’re not allowed to tell me, right? Privacy regulations and all that. Makes sense.” He sighed, wetting his lower lip with his tongue as he pondered his next move. “Could I at least leave a message for her?”

One corner of the nurse’s mouth ticked up. She grabbed a piece of paper and pen and wordlessly slid it under the window.

Fitz couldn’t help but grin widely. He grabbed the pen and stared at the blank page in front of him, trying to figure out what to write, when the sound of his own name made him jerk up and look to the side.

“Doc—Doc—Doctor Simmons,” he muttered, a little star-struck, his heartbeat back to an unhealthy pace.

“Did you injure yourself again?” she asked, her question laced with curiosity, concern, and a hint of teasing.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Fitz blurted out.

“If your old injury is giving you trouble then you should follow up with your primary care physician. I thought I had mentioned that,” she remarked.

“Oh, yeah, no, that’s not why I’m here.” He raised his bandaged arm. “The old injury is doing just fine.”

Dr. Simmons furrowed her brow. “Then why are you here?”

“He wants to ask you out,” the triage nurse piped up, arms crossed in front of her chest and a sly smile playing on her lips.

Fitz glared at her in panic, mild annoyance, and embarrassment.

“Is that so?”

Dr. Simmons’ question brought Fitz’s focus back to her. He scratched the skin below his ear, his gaze somewhere between her face and the floor. “Um, yes, yes, I was wondering if—if you’d like to go out for dinner some time.” He cleared his throat, feeling as if it had been drained of all fluids.

Her lips pulled into a beaming smile that nearly took what was left of his breath away. “That sounds lovely.”

“Really?” Fitz muttered, feeling that speechlessness was the next symptom on his list.

She reached for the pen and paper in front of him and scribbled down her name and phone number before sliding it back to him. “I have Wednesday and Thursday next week off, so Wednesday night would be particularly suitable.”

Fitz’s eyes wandered from her to the piece of paper to the triage nurse and back to her. He couldn’t stop the smile that slowly spread across his face. “Wednesday sounds perfect. I—um—” He picked up the paper with her number and waved it in the air. “I’ll text you to hammer out the details?”

“I look forward to it,” she replied, her face still lit up with a wide smile. “But now I need to get back to work,” she added almost apologetically.

“Yeah, no, of course. I’ll be in touch,” Fitz replied, holding her phone number tightly, afraid it could suddenly disintegrate into thin air.

She walked past him, heading down the corridor. Fitz watched her leave until the triage nurse’s voice pulled him out of his racing thoughts.

“Well done,” she said, grinning at him one-sidedly.

Fitz couldn’t help but smile himself. “Thanks,” he replied, adding a friendly, “Nice meeting you,” before turning on his heels and leaving the emergency room much like he’d entered it, with sweaty palms and a hammering heart.


	3. Chapter 3

Fitz swallowed the last of his wine. “So, let’s see. What have we not yet covered?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips. As the evening had progressed, he’d felt more and more at ease in his conversation with Jemma. “Oh, right, do you have any siblings?”

Jemma’s face lit up. “I have an older brother. Liam. Married. Twin daughters. Lives in London. How about you?”

Fitz shook his head. “No, not biologically.” He raised his index finger importantly. “Though my mum has fostered a lot of kids over the years, so I’ve had my share of foster siblings.”

“Oh, really?” Jemma’s eyes widened in curiosity. “Are you very close with them?”

Fitz pursed his lips. “Not very. I mean, we stay in touch. We get along. Some used to visit my mum from time to time when she still lived in the States, but now that she’s back in Scotland—it’s mainly Facebook friendships and all that.”

Jemma nodded in agreement, taking a sip of her water. “It’s hard to stay in touch sometimes, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Plus, there was really only one I wished—” He fell silent, exhaling sharply before shrugging. “She was the sister I always wanted.”

Jemma ticked her head to the side questioningly, furrowing her brow. “What happened?”

“She came to us when she was 14 and ran away when she turned 18.” He scoffed. “Left a perfectly good birthday cake behind and two very confused people.”

Jemma slumped her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

Fitz took a deep breath. “My mum was going to tell her that she wanted to adopt her that day. Had the papers all drawn up.”

“And you have no idea where she is?”

He shook his head. “Mum said we had to let her go. That was her wish, Skye’s. That was her name. She’d written in her note that we shouldn’t try to find her, and Mum said we should respect that.” Fitz pressed his lips into a thin line, lifting his shoulders. “I don’t know. I think maybe she was so used to being shoved aside by people she started to care about that she got scared it would happen with us, too. When she first came to us, she always expected that we would try to get rid of her again. But I thought after four years—I don’t know—maybe she got scared to lose us again so in some strange sense running away was—”

“—doing it on her own terms,” Jemma finished his thought.

“Exactly.” Fitz chuckled weakly. “She was great with computers. Hacked into the principal’s computer once and almost got suspended for it, but she found too much on him to get in trouble.”

Jemma laughed out loud and for a moment the sound lifted the dark cloud that had appeared ever since Fitz had started talking about his foster sister. He shook his head, trying to push the dark thoughts further away. “Part of me—I wonder whether she keeps track of us.” He shrugged. “Knows what we’re up to. Still cares. But maybe that’s wishful thinking. Guess we’ll never know.” He bit his lower lip, drumming with his fingers on both sides of his plate. “I just hope wherever she is that she found what she was looking for, found her purpose, found herself. That she’s safe.”

Fitz’s heartbeat quickened and his stomach tightened when Jemma unexpectedly covered his hand with hers, her soft, brown eyes fixed on his. “I’m so sorry, Fitz.”

He shrugged, not daring to move otherwise, the back of his hand enjoying the subtle warmth of her palm. “It’s been seven years.”

A gentle, sad smile played on her lips. “Doesn’t make it hurt any less, does it now?”

One corner of his mouth ticked up. “No, it doesn’t.”

Her thumb gently stroked the back of Fitz’s hand, sending a rush of heat through his body. “Thank you for sharing this with me. It’s such a personal story.”

“It’s easy to share with you,” he admitted quietly, enjoying how her lips pulled into a beaming smile at the compliment.

They both startled when the waiter’s voice suddenly piped up next to them. “I’m terribly sorry, but we’re about to close.”

“Oh,” Fitz stared at him wide-eyed before exchanging a quick look with Jemma and checking his watch (which meant reluctantly pulling his hand out from under Jemma’s palm). “I’ve completely lost track of time. Umm—could you bring us the check, please?”

“Of course.” The waiter nodded politely and headed back to the counter.

Fitz exhaled sharply. “Wow. I—I really didn’t notice.”

Jemma chuckled quietly. “Time flies when you’re in good company.”

Fitz bobbed his head in agreement, mesmerized by the way her eyes seemed to bury themselves into his soul. He paid the bill once the waiter returned and wandered to the exit, constantly checking over his shoulder to ensure she was following him.

“So, um—can I give you a lift?” Fitz asked once they’d stepped outside, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb. “My car is just around the corner.”

“Thank you. That’s a very kind offer. I might just take you up on it,” Jemma replied, and Fitz felt his stomach tighten with excitement.

* * *

“Pull over here,” Jemma announced, gesturing at a multi-storey building to the side. “That’s me.”

Fitz stopped the car, squinting at where she’d pointed. “Looks like a nice building.”

“I can’t complain,” Jemma shrugged.

Fitz sighed, shifting in his seat to look at Jemma more head on. “I had a really great time.”

Jemma smiled widely. “Me too. Maybe we could do it again some time?”

“I would very much like that.”

She chuckled, grabbing her purse more tightly. Her gaze wandered to her building, before focussing back on Fitz. She cleared her throat. “Would you like to come upstairs for a nightcap? Cup of tea?”

Fitz raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You sure?”

“Definitely.” Jemma bobbed her head. “I feel like we still had so much to talk about when our date was interrupted by the restaurant’s closing time.”

Fitz exhaled sharply. “Alright then. One cup of tea.”


	4. Chapter 4

Fitz took a sip of his tea. It was long cold by now and yet he couldn’t bring himself to finish it. He’d noticed that Jemma was drinking hers just as slowly. Both seemed determined to stick to their “just one cup” idea despite having hours worth of conversations. She had glanced at her watch a little while ago—just like him, but both seemed to have decided to ignore the fact that the clock was quickly approaching 3 a.m. on a workday. Fitz couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so at ease with someone, like every word he spoke mattered to her and every word she said mattered as well, like there were no secrets and never would be. Maybe he couldn’t remember because it had never happened before—not like this. One date should probably not be enough to say he was falling for her and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that that’s what was happening—had already happened.

“May I ask you something?” he inquired.

“Of course,” she replied with a smile on her lips.

“Does it happen a lot?”

Jemma chuckled. “You’ll have to define ‘it’ more precisely.”

Fitz scoffed, embarrassed that he hadn’t provided her with more information. “That a patient asks you out.”

She dropped her head back, laughing out loud before clearing her throat to find her composure again. “Quite a bit actually.”

“Oh.” Fitz didn’t quite know how to hide his disappointment.

“But,” Jemma continued, emphasizing the word importantly, “—in almost all cases the people asking are highly intoxicated or under the influence of strong pain medications or other drugs. You’re one of the only ones who came back to ask me out afterwards—and the only one whose proposal I’ve accepted.”

“Really?” Fitz looked at her wide-eyed, his lips reflexively pulling into a smile that she reciprocated without replying. “Why me then?” Fitz followed up.

“I’m not sure.” Jemma shrugged, putting her cup down on the coffee table. “There was something about you that—” She paused, shifting in her seat, pulling her legs up on the couch and tucking them under her bum to look at Fitz more directly. “You cared. You cared about that little girl who had to wait. You cared about your colleague missing his child’s football tournament. There was something truly fascinating about you. Plus, you have stunning eyes.”

Fitz felt a blush creep up his cheeks, too stunned to say anything in return.

“What about you?” Jemma asked. “Why did you ask me out?”

Fitz took another sip of his cold tea to try and fight the dryness in his throat, before putting the cup down. “You cared. You cared that that girl waited. You cared about me caring about it. You had a smart comeback to everything without coming across as rude. Your smile could brighten the darkest room. I just knew I would regret it if I didn’t come back to at least try—” He paused briefly, ticking his head to the side. “Plus, you called me Fitz without ever questioning why.” He scoffed. “I mean, Skye would tell me that I should marry you for that alone.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Fitz felt his stomach tighten uncomfortably at the thought that he’d just brought up marriage on their first date. He was relieved when Jemma burst out laughing.

“Well, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she replied, her lips pulled wide and a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “We don’t even know yet whether we’re compatible in all areas that a strong relationship requires.”

Fitz’s stomach tightened for different reasons. He stared at her wide-eyed. “You—you mean to say—” he stammered.

His heart started racing to the point of threatening to stop when Jemma suddenly leaned closer, kissing him softly.

“I mean to say, indeed,” she replied, her voice hoarse with desire and her lips so close to his that he could feel her breath tickling his face.

Fitz cleared his throat. “Are you—I mean—This isn’t what I expected or—”

She closed the gap between their lips once more, causing Fitz to inhale a sharp breath. “It’s not exactly what I expected either,” she replied, her palm now gently pressed against his cheek, “but it’s certainly what I want. Though if you feel like—”

“No, I mean, yes, I mean—I want, too,” Fitz muttered breathlessly. “It’s just—I don’t want to come across as—”

She chuckled. “I think you’ve shown a prudent amount of restraint,” she teased. “Very gentlemanly. The record will state that you in no way—”

Fitz kissed her, partly to shut her up, partly because he was ready to throw caution to the wind. The kiss started out soft, two people exploring their possibilities, but it quickly grew more heated.

Fitz moaned when Jemma climbed on his lap, deepening their passionate kiss even further and grinding her hips into his crotch.

He broke the kiss, cradling her face in his hands and bringing enough distance between them for her face to lose its blurriness. “One more thing.”

“Yes?” Jemma replied breathlessly, a hint of impatient confusion lingering on her face.

“I don’t have any—I mean—like I said, I didn’t expect this, so—”

One side of her mouth ticked up into a mischievous half-grin. “Well, working at the emergency room does come with certain perks, and though I haven’t had a need to take advantage of these perks lately, I am well prepared nonetheless.”

Fitz combed his fingers through her hair, inhaling slowly in admiration. “That may be the most eloquent way of saying ‘I have condoms’ I’ve ever heard.”

She chuckled quietly, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the top button of his shirt. “Well, I suppose the only question remaining is whether we’ll make use of them.”

Fitz pulled her closer, pressing his lips softly against hers. “I thought that had been established.”

She kissed him again, before pushing back and getting up, stretching her hand out in his direction. “They’re in the bedroom.”

Fitz grabbed her hand, allowing her to help him up. “Lead the way then,” he suggested, placing his hands on her hips.

A smile flashed across her face, before she pulled him closer, locking lips, and guiding him backwards to the bedroom.


	5. Chapter 5

Fitz closed the last button of his shirt and stepped in front of the mirror, combing his fingers through his hair and trying to tame his curls. He looked to the side when he heard the key in the door.

They had moved in together a few months ago after dating for one and a half years. It hadn’t been a great romantic gesture. Fitz’s lease had run out and since he spent most of his time at Jemma’s already and her apartment was larger, cleaner, and closer to his work, it seemed like a no-brainer to take that step in their relationship. It really was mainly a matter of getting all of his clothes into her place rather than just the occasional overnight bag and to move the few personal belongings he had onto her shelves. It had been an easy transition, and it allowed them a bit more time together with Jemma’s irregular work schedule. Fitz couldn’t imagine having it any other way than to wake up next to her each and every possible morning.

“Hey there, good timing,” he called into the hallway before making his way into the living room. “You should have time to take a quick shower before we need to get—”

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Jemma, her exhausted body language and defeated expression. He rushed over to where she was standing next to the entrance door, her jacket and shoes still on. “What’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing her shoulders.

Her tear-rimmed eyes blinked rapidly, her lips twitching as if they couldn’t decide whether they should smile or cry. She lifted her shoulders lightly. “It was just one of those days—people who don’t deserve to—too many—some deaths just hit you harder.”

Fitz cupped her face, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

Jemma sniffed. “I know it’s part of the job, and I love my job, it’s just—just some days I wish I could fix the unfixable.”

“And I love you for that,” Fitz replied, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs, a sad smile playing on his lips that hers slowly mirrored. Fitz took a deep breath, “Tell you what, I’ll call Frank to cancel.”

Jemma ticked her head to the side. “Fitz, they invited us weeks ago. I know you were looking forward to it.  _ I _ was looking forward to it. Just—just give me a few minutes, a quick shower, and—”

“Nonsense,” Fitz insisted, looking straight into her eyes. “They’ll understand. We’ll reschedule. You don’t look like someone who’s really keen on being social all evening.”

One corner of her mouth ticked up, telling him that she knew he was speaking the truth.

“I’ll draw you a bath. You go and relax for as long as you want,” Fitz continued his plan. “I’ll order some food, and then we just have a quiet night in. We can watch something, or talk, or whatever you need. Deal?”

Her eyes wandered side to side, fixed on his, as she pondered her reply.

“Deal?” Fitz repeated quietly, when she still hadn’t responded after a long second.

Her lips slowly pulled into a smile and her lips parted as she prepared to speak. Fitz squeezed her shoulders, anticipating her affirmative answer.

“Fitz, will you marry me?”

Fitz’s jaw dropped and he stared at her, not quite sure he’d heard correctly. “What?” escaped him, as if someone had punched the air out of his lungs.

“The thought has crossed my mind before,” Jemma said hastily, clearly nervousness now settling in after her life-changing question. “But—I don’t know, something about just now. I mean, you being willing to throw our plans out the window without batting an eye because you know that I—because you care so deeply about my well-being—I just—I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Fitz. I can’t imagine being with anyone else. I can’t imagine having with anyone else what we have, our kind of trust, and honesty, and love, and—and, so—I ask you again: will you marry me?”

Fitz wasn’t quite sure whether he was hyperventilating or still breathing at all as he listened to her proposal, his lips becoming dry as he stood with his mouth open until a soft happy scoff escaped him. “Just one second,” he said, raising his index finger before spinning on his heels to head to their bedroom.

“Um, Fitz?” he heard Jemma’s confused voice, followed by her footsteps until she arrived at the open bedroom door. “Leaving the room is not really considered an appropriate response to a marriage proposal,” she remarked, and Fitz was relieved to hear a hint of amusement in her tone.

He closed the drawer to his nightstand and spun around, still on his knees, raising the small jewelry box and opening it with trembling hands to reveal the engagement ring he’d bought a few weeks ago.

Jemma’s eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. “Fitz,” she breathed.

Fitz couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. “I’ve thought about it—a lot—for a while now. I was going to ask you on our anniversary—I don’t even know why I wanted to wait that long.” He scooted forward on his knees until he was in front of her. He took the ring out of its box and placed the box on the ground, grabbing Jemma’s hand and slowly sliding the ring onto her finger. “Yes, Jemma Anne Simmons, I will marry you.”

A sound between a laugh and a sob escaped her as she fell to her knees, cupping Fitz’s face, and kissing him excitedly. She drew in a sharp breath, sniffling back tears. “We’re engaged.”

Fitz chuckled. “Apparently we are.”

She sealed his lips with hers again, softer this time, savoring the moment, before pulling away. “I love you, Fitz.”

“Would be really bad if you didn’t, considering you just committed to tolerating my grumpy bum for the rest of your life,” Fitz teased, before kissing her again, not stormy, just a gentle, lingering kiss. He looked at her, his thumbs caressing her cheek bones. “So, how about you take that bath now, and I order food and call Frank.”

Jemma sighed. “A bath does sound wonderful.”

“Alright then,” Fitz got up and extended his hand in her direction to help her up. “Time to relax, Doctor Simmons. Engineer’s orders!”

“Well, Doctor Fitz,” Jemma laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I fully trust your engineering expertise to evaluate my medical and psychological needs.”

* * *

“Mmm,” Jemma hummed, wiping off the last remains of her dinner with her napkin and taking another sip of her wine.

“Satisfied with the dinner selection?” Fitz asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“You can never go wrong with Badmaash,” Jemma confirmed.

Fitz scoffed in amusement before his expression grew more serious. “Do you feel better?” 

Jemma laughed quietly, her lips pulling into a wide smile. “We got engaged, Fitz. Yes, I do feel better. I never thought this was where today was headed, but—I wouldn’t want to have it any other way.” 

Fitz sighed in relief. “So, what do you want to do next? Watch something? Talk?”

“We got engaged, Fitz.” Jemma raised her eyebrows. “I think we should celebrate—if you get my meaning.” She rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward, her eyes sparkling suggestively.

“You sure?” Fitz asked in ernest. “I know today was—” 

Jemma smiled, reaching across the table to cover Fitz’s hand with her own, her engagement ring sparkling in the dining room lights. “What happened today at the hospital happened, and it was rough, and maybe it’s still somewhere in my mind, but—but you and I getting married, spending the rest of our lives together, starting a family—those thoughts definitely shine much brighter—so, yes, I’m sure. I want to celebrate, I want to make love, I want to live.”

“Well, in that case—” Fitz got up, turning his hand around to grab hers and pulling her up to standing. He snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, pausing to allow himself to drink her fully in, her beaming smile, the joy in her gentle, brown irises. Then he leaned in to kiss his fiancée, guiding her backwards to the bedroom.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and commenting. Hope you enjoyed this part of the universe.


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